I'm a junior at the University of Colorado at Boulder, studying English. I don't get to see my dad as often as I'd like, but when we get together, I cherish that time more than ever.
I believe in fathers. I believe that they are just as important as mothers. Fathers are an essential aspect in raising strong and balanced children. Their worth should not be undervalued in the domestic sphere, judicial structure or within the community.
My dad was always around. He stayed at home so that I wouldn’t have to go to daycare. He sat at the edge of my pink, canopy bed and read me a story every night with a deep, strong voice. Then he sang me the alphabet song and taught me how to sound out words so that I could read stories by myself, which brought about the love I have for literature today.
My dad rescued me from a fuzzy spider that crept along my bedroom wall, and then taught me that spiders where probably more afraid of us than we are of them, as it wandered harmlessly across his hand. He held the back of my two-wheel bike securely and said “pedal, I’ve got you” until I realized he wasn’t holding on any longer and I was balancing on my own.
As I got older, I found it more annoying that my dad was always around. I wanted to see movies with friends, hide in my room to talk on the phone, and play loud pop music on the radio. But my dad enforced curfews and compelled me to sit in on family dinners and play board games.
As my family fell apart, I watched my dad fight to keep his children. He engaged in custody battles and hired lawyers and put faith in child psychologists to see his children for more than just weekends. And when my mom wanted to move my brother and me away, he fought for his rights as a father. I saw stress and worry etched in his face even as he promised me that we would always be together. At ten years old, I knew I wanted to live with my daddy; and that’s what I told the judge on our case. My father gained full custody; my mom left. Although he won, he struggled in court where a woman would not have. Our legal system assumes the validity of motherhood, but is not as compassionate when it comes to fathers.
The strength that a father gives a child cannot be found in any other relationship. I look to my dad for sound advice, not something I just wanted to hear. When my best friend put me down and started rumors in school, he told me I deserved better. While I grieved the loss of that childhood friendship, my dad was by my side as a familiar comfort. As I struggled to make new friends, he continually assured me that I was worth someone who was supportive, considerate and loyal.
My dad has taught me strength through word and action and has given me the same confidence to pedal and balance my life as he did with my two-wheel bike.
I'm a junior at the University of Colorado at Boulder, studying English. I don't get to see my dad as often as I'd like, but when we get together, I cherish that time more than ever.
I believe in fathers. I believe that they are just as important as mothers. Fathers are an essential aspect in raising strong and balanced children. Their worth should not be undervalued in the domestic sphere, judicial structure or within the community.
My dad was always around. He stayed at home so that I wouldn’t have to go to daycare. He sat at the edge of my pink, canopy bed and read me a story every night with a deep, strong voice. Then he sang me the alphabet song and taught me how to sound out words so that I could read stories by myself, which brought about the love I have for literature today.
My dad rescued me from a fuzzy spider that crept along my bedroom wall, and then taught me that spiders where probably more afraid of us than we are of them, as it wandered harmlessly across his hand. He held the back of my two-wheel bike securely and said “pedal, I’ve got you” until I realized he wasn’t holding on any longer and I was balancing on my own.
As I got older, I found it more annoying that my dad was always around. I wanted to see movies with friends, hide in my room to talk on the phone, and play loud pop music on the radio. But my dad enforced curfews and compelled me to sit in on family dinners and play board games.
As my family fell apart, I watched my dad fight to keep his children. He engaged in custody battles and hired lawyers and put faith in child psychologists to see his children for more than just weekends. And when my mom wanted to move my brother and me away, he fought for his rights as a father. I saw stress and worry etched in his face even as he promised me that we would always be together. At ten years old, I knew I wanted to live with my daddy; and that’s what I told the judge on our case. My father gained full custody; my mom left. Although he won, he struggled in court where a woman would not have. Our legal system assumes the validity of motherhood, but is not as compassionate when it comes to fathers.
The strength that a father gives a child cannot be found in any other relationship. I look to my dad for sound advice, not something I just wanted to hear. When my best friend put me down and started rumors in school, he told me I deserved better. While I grieved the loss of that childhood friendship, my dad was by my side as a familiar comfort. As I struggled to make new friends, he continually assured me that I was worth someone who was supportive, considerate and loyal.
My dad has taught me strength through word and action and has given me the same confidence to pedal and balance my life as he did with my two-wheel bike.